Chico Cherry cola
by FanSlewFantasy
Summary: REPOSTED  Antonio has a really bad habit, that Lovino positively hates. Herin lies medium-level PWP, Yaoi, much cherry cola and plenty of sexy spanish-ness-ness. DL;DR, thanks.


~REPOSTED FROM OLD ACCOUNT~

my apologies to those of you who had favourited this story on the other account, and my thanks to everyone who left a review. much love, and now this story is here to stay, from me. ^^

It comes in frosted glass bottles, that soda he drinks.

He just sits there all day, drinking it. Maybe scratching his ass, turning the pages of a trashy copy of _famous_and lounging around in the bay window.

Sippin'.

Flickin'

Motherfuckin' licking his lips and smacking mosquitoes that land on his bare upper arms. Serves the bastard right for not wearing a shirt.

"Hey, Lovi, can you bring me another soda from the fridge?"

"Get your own damn soda."

"Please, my legs are sore."

"From what? Sitting on you ass all day like a lazy fucker?"

"Mind your language, Romano."

"Fuck you." I scowled and pulled myself out of my seat. The wicker weave creaked as my weight shifted, my bare feet uncomfortable on the cold of terracotta tiles, I hurried to the kitchen on my tiptoes and sighed in relief to be standing on a wooden floor.

Even in the height of Spanish summer, I hated cold feet.

"What flavour? Vanilla or lemon?"

"Are there any cherry ones left?"

"Don't know don't care…" the words mumbled under my breath were more of a self calming thing than anything else. Because if I had to sit there and smell that scent, and watch him tongue the neck of another bottle of cherry pop, I knew I would go insane.

I tugged open the fridge, the seal sucked apart and a roll of chilled air blasted my lower body. I bent down, to have a proper look. Some soup, a few tomatoes in a bag… and on the top shelf, half a crate of cherry cola. I reached in and grabbed one by the neck, paused for a moment, and grabbed two instead.

I was thirsty, yes?

So I took one of his goddamned sodas.

For _sippin'_.

I nudged the fridge door shut with my hip and placed the drinks down on the stone bench top. The window above the sink was open, and a soft, dry breeze fluttered in. The scent of hot food rode the air, the sound of music in the streets. If it wasn't so goddamned Spanish it would be sort of pleasant. But everything about this weather and this mood reminded me of him. Sometimes I forgot why I even stayed with him, really. The dumbass.

His glasses were kept in the cupboard above the microwave, but I genuinely couldn't be bothered. I rinsed a pair off from the pile of dirties in the rack instead and thumped them unceremoniously besides the bottles, before reaching for one and twisting the little silver cap off. The soda fizzed, frothy and sticky all over the knuckles of my right hand. I swore some more and poured the contents into one of the glasses. It was just big enough to hold it all. The empty bottle was thrown carelessly into the sink.

I emptied the other bottle too, before licking the cherry cola residue off my hand and picking up the glasses.

God, seriously. Why the hell do I keep coming back to this place?

I remember quite quickly when I return to the lounge room.

What can I say, Spain was… pleasant to look at. Especially when he was slobbing around and being a general dumbass. Which he did a lot. Shirtless or clothed, he had a great body, and those innocent green eyes were quite endearing when necessary. Nice to be a sweet guy, huh?

His smile was kind of crooked, and his hair a sexy little mess. Sometimes, when he didn't shave, the ghost of a beard rolled the clock forward, adding almost ten years to his age.

I almost didn't mind watching him suck the lip of that empty bottle absent mindedly.

Almost.

"Here, asshole." I thumped the drink down on the floor beside his foot.

"Thanks, could you just pass it- it's in a glass."

"Of course it's in a glass." I edged around the coffee table and opened another window. "What else is one meant to drink from?"

"The bottle."

"Fuck that shit." I placed my own soda down and collapsed into my chair. "Man up and drink from a glass."

"a glass is no good Lovi, I will spill it."

"Good, that will teach you to not me a clumsy oaf, wont it?"

"you're so heartless." He sighed and picked up the glass anyway, taking a big gulp. I tucked my feet under me on the chair and studied closely. I'd like to see him nurse this like he did those bottles.

No, that's right, he can't.

Good.

Goddamn I hate his cherry cola.

He seemed to have a little difficulty with holding the glass upright, and as for balancing it on his stomach, forget it. A dark scowl twisted my features. He too seemed pissed off, but he would never voice what he was thinking. I had a pretty good idea of what it might be though. Something about my lack of cuteness, or my insolence. Or insubordination blah blah WHATEVER. id heard it all before. It didn't matter.

Really.

So he went back to sippin', holding his glass awkwardly and flickin', turning the pages of that tatty magazine as if the affairs or popular Hispanic celebrities genuinely interested him. The white cotton curtains slung in open wooden windows, blustered and blew on the wave of sweet air, and I just kept sittin', drinking cherry cola and running my tongue across my upper lip.

o…o

"Aww… damnit!"

Antonio sat up in an explosion of soda and wet magazine, his empty glass tumbled to the floor, smashing, and I hid my smirk behind my hand. The spill was an accident; a lazy grip on his part, and the contents of the glass was everywhere. It poured over his chest. It wetted the window seat, it seeped across the floor. I traced my finger lazily around the rim of my own glass, eliciting a soft ring, and gazed at the man through half-cast eyes.

"Oaf."

"You should have given me the bottle!" he tried to no avail to wipe his damp stomach dry with splayed fingers. "agh… gross."

"Serves you right."

"For what? I'm just sitting there reading, minding my own business, and you come along and try to drown me in cherry flavoured hatred. Why, Romano? Just, why?" Antonio stood and shook himself, his green eyes fixed on me weren't particularly angry, a little irked, maybe, but not mad. It wasn't often '_España'_got angry.

I finished the last of the soda in my glass, flicking my tongue over my lips and grimacing at the taste. Sickly sweet, fruity bubbly and summery. It was clumsy, childlike. It reminded me of glossy red lips and white beaches. Of Spain in sand, wearing his straw hat and sunbathing.

Sipin'

Flickn',

Working his way through motherfucking magazines and lounging.

I longed for a taste of wine.

"I hate cherry soda." I held out my empty glass to him and he eyed it. "Can you fetch me some vanilla instead?"

"What's wrong with cherry?"

"Tastes like shit." I poked out my tongue and he scowled.

"You shouldn't swear like that Romano, its not cute at all."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

He took my glass roughly and sat it down with a thunk on the coffee table. Maybe the heat was getting to him, maybe I was wearing him sort of thin, but he actually was beginning to seem pissed now.

"You're so terribly behaved, you know that? Always have been, and apparently always will be."

"oh, piss off Spain, no-one cares." I seam to have hit a nerve. His cheeks darken, he balls his fists.

"You are you know, a nasty little brat."

I blushed fiercely and stood, though even standing as tall as I could I managed to only just level with his chin.

"And you're a bossy inconsiderate slob. I guess that makes us even, _si_."

"I'm a what now?"

"A bossy, inconsiderate slob. With no motivation and a sick little fetish for cherry cola."

"Romano why do you hate me? what did I do to deserve your wild hatred?" he ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "You know sometimes I wonder why I even let you stay here."

Well. This has been a long time coming.

I suppose I should have sensed it in the tension when he smiled, the cautious way he edged around me. Maybe I did egg him on a little. Maybe I had made it a game, how far can I push Antonio until he snaps… until he decides to empty that glass of cherry soda all over my head. Until he decided he just didn't want me anymore… that I just wasn't worth it.

I never imagined he would actually do it.

My jaw dropped in shock.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, sometimes I wonder why I let you stay here. You're ungrateful, untidy, disrespectful, and I swear in the last few months you have actually been going out of your way to piss me off. If you hate me that much, then leave." He turned his back on me and headed into the kitchen. "Actually," he paused and glanced over his shoulder. "never mind that. Just leave anyway. Take your stuff and go."

While I sat there in my seat, shell shocked, feeling rather as though he had just kicked me in the chest, I heard the sound of the fridge door open. A hiss as a cap was loosed, and the familiar gulp of cherry cola sippin'.

God I _hated_ cherry cola!

I hated the way that idiot drunk it, the way he pressed his lips to the neck of the bottle and sucked, I hated the way he lapped up the sides when it spilled, and how when he was bored he would play with it, run his lips ever so carefully around the rim. It struck me again as I stood, blinded by fury and the image of him _sipping_, how much I despised the sweetness he craved, the bubbly fizz he loved so.

The soggy magazine crinkled under my foot, I thought for a second on his _flicking_, on how I loathe those celebrity women. Sickening and fizzy like his motherfucking soda. I slipped a little on the glossy pages but carried on, storming to the kitchen and shoving him forcefully as soon as I could reach. He yelped and sprayed soda from his mouth everywhere; it spattered my face and dripped off the end of his nose. My hands, thin and calloused and not pretty sweet at all, wrestled his bottle of cola from him and in a fit of fury I smashed it on the floor.

"You _bastard!_" I wrenched open the fridge door too, and right in front of his sticky shocked face I began smashing bottles. The fizz was everywhere, the hyper summer scent filled my nostrils and buzzed me with sugar, and the liquid soaked my jeans. "You motherfucking soda sipping magrag flicking bastard!" the next bottle I aimed at him, he dodged it barely, and the smash seemed to jerk him out of the stupor my wrecking had induced.

"oi! What do you think you're-"

_Smash_

"LOVINO STOP IT!"

_Smash_

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!"

_Smash. Smash. Smash._

I threw my hand back into the fridge, but seized only empty air. No soda, no nothing.

"fuck." I hissed and slammed my fist into the fridge door, it dented quite badly and he yelled something. Whatever it was, I really, really didn't care.

"What's wrong bastard? Miserable cause I fucked up all your precious soda? What a shame." Sneering, feeling like a little demon had been unleashed within me, I advanced on him and shoved him backward again. He wasn't anticipating it, clearly, because he stumbled and caught himself on the bench behind. Shirtless, surrounded by billowing curtains and bathed in warm Spanish sunlight, Antonio looked fucking good. Better than good, actually. Positively edible. The expression of confusion and frustration on his face just made it even better.

"So you like cherries, huh?" I thrust my right hand out and forced it flat against his neck, his chin rested snugly in the v of my thumb and index finger. "You like flicking and sipping and licking?"

I can't express the look in his eyes, the seething alien fury, the embarrassment, the hurt. I slid my hand up a little further and he whimpered pathetically.

"Well? Do you?"

He nodded, lips pressed together into a disapproving line. A trickle of cherry soda tracked down his cheek.

Ah, my body slid well against his as I stood tip toed to lick it off.

"oh you sick bastard." I hissed, "You sick little _pervert_." My knee dug into his crotch and he whined. "Why? Why do you like these little red things? Your little Spanish summers and your sweet sugar soda." The breeze lifted, the curtains whipped and a warm gust of air fluttered across my skin.

"If you like cherry pop so much Antonio, why don't you _pop_ mine?"

It wasn't an offer.

It was a _demand_.

o…o

"Ah, R-Romano are you sure you- hey! Hey, hey, HEY!" he squirmed and I tried to wrestle him further back onto the breakfast bar. The bowl of fruit that had been perched there fell to the ground and shattered, but I really didn't care. The surface was slick with cherry soda, but once again I don't give a flying fuck. I just wanted his dick in my ass.

"Come on…" I dragged myself onto the breakfast bar and mounted his hips. My palms slid generously across his muscular chest, kneading and rubbing and flick, flick, _flickin'_ his nipples. "Don't you even want a little taste?"

Another little whine, his hands found my wrists and he tossed his head around, face screwed into an expression suitable for a child about to tantrum.

"Lo-vino… wait. Please wait I need to think for a moment! STOP IT!" he wrenched my hands off his chest and sat up. I almost toppled backward but he caught me, holding my waist and resting his forehead against my neck. Which scared the shit out of me, of course.

"Shit Lovi don't do things like that without warning? What is wrong with you, are you ill? Should I be worried?" he pulled back and gazed at me with wide, concerned eyes.

The angry fire in my gut was immediately extinguished.

I felt a huge blush staining my cheeks as understanding set in. Had I really just told him to… to… _pop my cherry_?

I opened and closed my mouth a few tines, gaping for words in the dry air. No way. Oh fucking hell. Why didn't I just drop dead right now?

If there was one thing I had decided long ago it was that I did not want to loose my virginity to that bastard.

Not that I ever thought about it.

He noted my blush, because he smiled in relief and laughed. A bubbly, sweet laugh.

"Ah, I see."

"What? What do you see? You don't see anything! Shuttup whats going on? STOP LAUGHING!" my voice raised to a nasal shriek when his little giggle fit gave way to a horrid gale of hysterics. I whacked him, trying to squirm out of his embrace, but succeeded not. Humiliated tears prickled behind my eyes. Oh my god what had I been thinking?

He squeezed me tightly and nuzzled my neck.

"You should have said something Lovi. Honestly. You sending me all these mixed messages, I didn't know what to think." he kissed my jaw softly and my stomach leapt, Pushing my heart up to the base of my throat and sending my breath into an irregular spiral. "I thought you hated me…"

"I do, I do hate you! Stop kissing me!" if my face got any hotter I would combust, I was sure of it. And even more disgustingly I was hard. Rock hard. It just popped up on its own accord I swear. It had nothing to do with his tongue stroking my throat or his fingertips massaging my ass through my jeans. Honestly, truly. And oh _god_ he was _sipping._ Sipping at my skin with little wet sucks and nibbles, working his way up my jaw to my mouth.

"Antonio, stop it."

"Why, you seemed so keen before…"

"Stop it you b-bastard! I don't like you I hate you I-"

Firm lips sealed mine, I squirmed again but that just made it worse. My erection, bound by denim and rubbing against his stomach, was bordering on painful.

"Shut it, Romano. You offered. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to… what was the phrase you used?" his eyes twinkled with burning, perverted gold. "_pop your cherry_?"

"Don't make fun of me-EEEH!"it turned into a squeal when those hands slid from my waist to the front of my jeans. He rubbed me through the fabric, hard, in circular motions that begged my hips with them. And with his candy pink tongue he resumed his flicking, lapping at my collarbone, rendering me helpless and furious.

"You b-bastard." Breath was laborious. Not worth it, really, when one considered how much I wanted to die in that moment. He sniffed and slid off the breakfast bar, I went with him and he had me turned around, back against it, before another utterance could pass my lips.

"You know… for a moment there, when you didn't come through as soon as I told you to leave, I thought id made a mistake, and that you really did hate me."

His hand worked swiftly with my belt buckle, every time I went to say something, he clamped my moth shut with his own before carrying on and letting me catch my breath.

"And when you started smashing bottles I thought you had gone mad. You scared me, I suppose I just never realised exactly how strong these feeling are."

He hand my pants undone now, his fingers played at the waistband of my underwear. I whimpered, no longer capable of clear thought. Fuck… bastard.

"I should have guessed though. Don't think I haven't noticed how you looked at me Lovi, and don't think I don't understand that crazy obsession you have with making life difficult for the person you like. Don't think I have only recently noticed, because I haven't. I've been looking, you see? I've been waiting for this day forever, you know. Since I met you. For a long, long time."

Those teasing fingers dipped beneath my waistband and I gasped.

"y-you paedophile!"

"Ah, ah… I never touched you until now… aren't I a good little pervert?"

"You're a bastard!"

"Don't call me that." He withdrew his fingers and kissed the shell of my ear. "I don't mind it sometimes, but in situations like this it hurts."

Gentle hands cupped my face; I tried to avoid meeting his eyes, but yielded in the end. I swallowed.

"w-what do you want me to do then?"

"Let me pleasure you… just let me please you in every way I can."

The sincerity, the eager sweetness on his face. I tried not to think of all those times he had bathed me as a kid. When I had slept in his bed! He used to let me share his bottles of soda too, offering them for me to drink from, withdrawing the bottle when he thought id had enough and laughing when I asked for more. Had he really been looking at me then and thinking of this? The question made me feel dirty… but also, indescribably sexy. The smell of cherry soda was making me a little queasy.

I nodded.

And just like that those fingers started walking, popping over buttons and rubbing muscles and skin and touching. His fingertips were flicking, his lips were sipping, and he was moaning. Drinking in the texture of my body.

I almost called him a bastard again when he knelt down, tugged down the front of my trousers, and started sucking on my dick. Not that it felt bad at all. It was the principle of the thing.

Instead, gasping, I grabbed his hair and tugged him off. It's about time I got to be the bossy one, right? In truth, I kind of wanted to slam his face against my torso, so that his nose cracked on my stomach, but I thought better of it. Just.

His mouth had felt good. Really good. When he looked up at me with slightly questioning eyes, lips hovering over the very tip of my arousal, I had to look away. I couldn't think straight when he gazed at me like that.

I wanted to tell him something. I wanted to talk to him, to address him. To let him know he wasn't fucking up too terribly. At all. But I wasn't exactly sure how. What to say? How to say it? I swore under my breath and shivered when his thumb rubbed the inside of my thigh.

"What do you want, Lovi?" his tongue flicked, caressing the very tip. My eyes fluttered shut and I whimpered.

"I've changed m- I've changed… I've changed my… oh god Antonio stop it!" his tongue swirling the crown of my erection was insistent. My hands tightened my grip in his hair and he laughed lightly.

"You called me Antonio." He stood up and kissed my throat again. It was no use. Honestly, I was so fucking hot I thought I would melt. "I like that. I like the way you say my name. _Lovino_." His kisses trailed back up to my mouth, I found myself kissing him fiercely, petting his face and sucking his lips and rubbing my body against the jut of his hips.

"Do you like it?" he mumbled, guiding me backward into a puddle of cola. "If you don't like it, say."

"Antonio…"

"Mmm…" he just kept kissing me, as if he wanted to tattoo my entire body with his lips. And I was aching to say something! I needed to tell him something important… the word _bastard_ tingled on the tip of my tongue, and I had to catch it before it spilled. Instead, without thinking, a jumbled mess of Spanish spewed out of my mouth. Shit I barely remembered learning. The meaning I was consciously sketchy on, but apparently deep inside the recesses of my brain I understood exactly what I was saying, because my face exploded into a fiery blush unlike anything id ever felt before.

"_ Me gusta, Antonio…"_

His breath caught and he mumbled something indistinct against my breastbone. His hands tightened on my thighs.

More Spanish. It was poor, but this time I knew exactly what I was saying. It was the single phrase I had bothered to learn off by heart.

"_Bésame. Bésame por favor…be… besa.._FUCK!" I was no longer bothered with Spanish. Now he had me back in his mouth I didn't give a fuck about it. I resorted to my own language, a jumbled fabric of swears and hate filled slurs that encouraged him just as much as anything else so far.

"You're so loud my_ chico lindo_." He laughed and slid off my erection. "I like it."

A flurry of swears in every language I knew plus some I made up. I yanked his face to mine and started sucking. I needed the taste of him. It was quite imperative. Finally catching on, he began tugging my jeans further down my hips. I squirmed, trying to remove them as well. My hands scouted his back and shoulders, rubbing the sticky sweetness of pop into his skin.

"You taste like cherry cola." He mumbled against me. I shook my head.

"No, shut up. I hate you."

"_También te amo."_

His hand played with my crotch, pressing gentle fingers into all the sensitive spots between my legs and caressing in sweet circles.

"Stop it! S-speak English!"

"_Nop. Lo siento, no hablo inglés. Tú habla en español."_

"I don't understand you!"

But he and I both knew I did. I'd never admit to it, but I did. And I wouldn't cave. No way in hell.

"_No mientas, hablas español de maravilla mi amor_"

God it was tempting. The big fat 'BASTARD!' on the tip of my tongue edged a little closer.

"_No! No mientas! Hablas inglés perfectamente!_"

He laughed and spread my legs, dropping his head between them.

"_Hablame sucio Lovino, sabes que me pone cachondo __."_

"nn… ba-bas- AH!" I shuddered to feel his kiss below my erection, the way he nibbled at the very base of my cock made my head swim. The jiggle of an arm beside my leg told me he was jacking off, rapid and regular. I aimed a sharp kick into his arm to make him stop.

"Fucking stop it! Stop it! STOP IT AND FUCK ME!"

"Español"

"Fuck! Just… _fóllame!_ goddamnit Antonio, _apresúrate, joder!_"

I arched my back and tossed my head around, wanting to positively kill him. To drown him in cherry cola. His soft laughter drove me insane. I actually couldn't take it. Furious tears brimmed in my eyes. I ripped at his hair.

"aww… Lovino… _pero me gusta chuparte así…"_

"I don't care! I don't care I… I just…" a sucked a breath and gritted my teeth. I couldn't even finish that sentence. Every part of my body was throbbing with need. This was like the cherry soda thing all over again. Teasing, cruel, unfair…

_Bastard._

He gave a few more small sips before standing up and leaning over me. His hair clung to his sweaty forehead, his lips flushed dark and full. I kissed him as aggressively as I could, sucking the grin right off his stupid face.

"Now you look here." I pressed my nose against his and hissed. "You listen to me, you cunt. If you don't fuck me within the next half a minute I swear to god I will kill you. You like it sweet well I can give it to you sweet, but I like it rough and fast. _Comprendes,_ you motherfucking Spanish asshole? _quiero sexo rudo_."

He blinked, face flushing as dark as mine, and immediately linked our lips in another kiss. Finally, I felt something going on there. Finally I felt his hand, slicked with the precum and saliva all over my crotch, slide around behind me and caress the curve of my ass. His index finger, sliding backward from my balls, caressing my entrance and pressing softly, circling, trying to tease its way in. It wasn't necessary. Just because I have never had sex doesn't mean I haven't fucked myself enough to be as loose as any next door slut.

"Antonio! No! idiot, _estoy bien, apresúrate!"_

He grunted and pushed his finger straight in, all the way. I felt a groan lift from my chest.

"More!"

He didn't seem to mind that I spoke English.

Two more fingers were shoved inside of me, spreading, wriggling. It hurt a little, but I liked the burn. In and out, his fingers impaled me, his face buried in my heaving chest he began mumbling. All his words mixed together in a smear of sound, I dragged my nails up his back and he keened my name.

He ripped his fingers from me roughly, I didn't particularly mind, because within a short moment they were replaced with something much bigger. Something much harder and more satisfying. I shivered and hunched my shoulders as he pressed in; the friction of him sliding on the inside of my body was delicious. The most incredible thing I have ever felt, if I'm going to be frank.

He didn't wait; he just started fucking me like it was the end of the world as we knew it. Which was more than fine. Every push jolted me; hot, indescribable tightness bloomed in my stomach and I pushed back against him, meeting each thrust and gazing up at the man with bleary eyes.

He was a motherfucking hot piece of shit alright. I almost found myself hoping someone was watching this, that someone was taking note of the fact that he was _mine_. His dark hair everywhere, his face pink and twisted into an expression of bliss, I loved it. The flutter of his eyelids, his lips stumbling jumbles of everything... beautiful.

I groaned and tossed my body around, riding ecstasy, panting fractured god knows whats, clawing at him and dragging him down against me again.

" _Eres mi mundo…_ " he kissed my ear and cheek and neck. "_eres mi sol en la mañana. Eres mis estrellas cada noche.._."

"nnn... Antonio... hah... ah."

"_Lo eres todo para mi."_he kept on raining kisses on my face, still fucking me, slamming inside of me. His voice shook, I dragged his mouth to mine to muffle the cry when he pounded into my hotspot, swallowing the rest of his sweet Spanish blabber and dragging his tongue between my lips. I could feel climax approaching. The feeling of heat trickling down my neck, like some kind of mind reader my Spain chose that exact moment to caress my spine, his fingers tracked the wet sugary warmth all the way down my body. It seeped into each bone of my spine column and rocketed along every nerve ending in my torso. By the time he was half way down my back I could feel myself stumbling, feel myself toppling over the edge and blindly, helplessly falling. Collapsing into pleasure until his hand reached the bottom, his touch ghosted my tailbone and

_Pop_

I pulled my lips off his when my body shuddered and orgasm riled up inside me ruthlessly.

"Toniiii…" my cry was high and needy, he sucked gently on my neck and kept pushing, my muscles clenched and released in time with his thrusts. "oh god 'Toni yes… yes… _yesssssssss…_"

I'd never felt such relief in my life. Every tense muscle in my body liquefied, it felt like I was melting… like I would never be able to stand up straight again. Not that I'd ever want to.

I relaxed, letting myself go limp. My arms slipped from around his neck, my shaking chest drew in what felt like my first breath ever. It smelt like cherry cola and Antonio, sweet and bubbly and dizzying. He let me, running his hands to my hips and continuing to thrust, letting small cries slip from his lips as he did so. I watched him, seeing everything in slow motion, feeling light and glowing. His hair bounced a little with each snap of his hips, he bit his lip and raised his head to look at me. The sight made me grin stupidly. I could still feel him… it was a pleasant sensation. In and out, in and out…

"I love you Lovino…"

"I know." I reached for his face, caressing his cheek softly. He kissed my fingertips as they brushed his lips and his unsteady rhythm became even faster. Unfocused green eyes drunk me in, a weary smile through pants and sighs he licked my fingertips and I giggled.

"You look beautiful when you smile L-Loviiii…." His hoarse voice trembled a little, shifting into an exultant sigh as his own body shuddered and I felt wet warm stickiness flood inside of me. I remained still as he writhed, admiring the curve of his neck and the ripple of his muscles. Revelling in the feeling of him filling me. I closed my eyes in the hopes he wouldn't see then cross slightly. To finally experience something… after waiting for it for so long.

Heaven.

Panting, shaking, he shifted his hands from my hips and placed them either side of my waist. He slid from me easily and bent forward, kissing my lips chastely.

"Feel better now, _chico_?"

"Yeah…"

"Wanna help me clean up these smashed bottles?"

"Sure."

His mouth caressed my jaw.

"Will you come with me to the shop later? I have this spectacular craving for cherry cola."

"Bastard!" I clipped him around the ears and he snickered.

"Oh Lovi… my little tomato." He stood and tucked himself away, doing up his fly and bending down to pluck my trousers off the floor. "We will make a deal, sí? I will stop drinking cherry cola if you keep calling me 'Toni' when we have sex." He smiled and patted my leg kindly. "It sounds so much nicer than 'bastard'."

Suddenly regaining the ability to move, feeling the beatific smile on my face be replaced with a fierce blush, I sat up and snatched my pants and underwear out of his hands.

"I did _not_ call you 'Toni', did I?"

"Oh yeah." He began picking up glass and dropping it into the sink. "You did. And it was kind of sweet too." A cheeky wink. "Just you wait Lovino, we will make a cutie out of you yet."

…_pop…_

Ta-da.

many thanks to the wonderful Lady Yunie for the spanish translations. ^^ my hero.

It is with much regret I must inform you that I do NOT own hetalia or the characters in it. So yeah… no sexy Spanish man for me. sigh…


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